Poems of the Heart and Home Part 5

Find no work that thou canst do?

Angels wait to bear the tidings Of some good that thou hast done; Then, to patient, earnest labor, Waken, ere the set of sun!

THE WORLD'S DAY.

Dark was the world when from the bowers Of forfeit Eden man went forth, With aching heart and blighted powers, To till the sterile soil of earth; Yet, even then, a glimmering light Faintly illumed the eastern skies, And, struggling through the mists of night, Beamed soft on Abel's sacrifice.

It shone on Abram's eager eyes Upon Moriah's lonely height, And Jacob, 'neath the midnight skies, In hallowed dreams beheld its light; And o'er Arabia's desert sand Where weary Israel wandered on, In doubt and fear toward Canaan's land, The hallowed dawning brighter shone.

Ages roll on 'mid deep'ning day, And prophet-bard and holy seer Watch eagerly the kindling ray, To see the blessed sun appear-- Watch, till along the mountain-heights The long-expected radiance streams, _And lo! a b.l.o.o.d.y Cross it lights, And o'er a blood-stained victim gleams!_

And higher climbed the rising sun, And brighter glowed the joyous day, And Earth the bowed and weary one Kindled beneath the blessed ray A little while--then, dense and drear, Back rolled the heavy clouds of night, Till through the murky atmosphere Scarce stole a single gleam of light

Then Superst.i.tion piled her fires With slaughtered saints,--and dungeons lone Echoed the tortured victims' prayers, The stifled shriek, the smothered groan: Yet ever, Truth, through blood and tears, Pursued her dark, tempestuous way, And Faith illumed those stormy years, With promises of brighter day.

It came at last--through parted clouds The blessed sunlight burst once more, And a broad flood of glory swept O'er vale and plain, o'er sea and sh.o.r.e; Earth, from her wildering dream of tears, And blood and anguish, guilt and wrong-- The long, dark, troubled dream of years-- Awoke, and once again was strong.

Then crumbled thrones--then empires fell, As Science, Freedom, Truth, arose, And, shaking off their numbing spell, Closed in stern conflict with their foes: And onward still, with unbowed head, Faith's dauntless legions held their way, Marking with heaps of martyred dead The pathway that behind them lay.

And still that steady march is on, Through storm and gloom, through strife and tears.

Still Faith points upward to the sun Whose glories brighten with the years-- Whose steady light and heat at length Shall scatter every cloud away, And Truth, majestic in her strength, Shall stand complete in perfect day.

BRETHREN, GO!

A VALEDICTION.

Brethren, go! the day is bright'ning As the sultry noon steals on, And the fields, already whit'ning, Tell of labor to be done.

There are toilsome days before you, Burdens that you may not shun, Clouds will gather darkly o'er you, Reeds will fail you one by one.

Yet go forth to strong endeavor, 'Neath the shadow of the cross; He who calls will leave you never,-- Never let you suffer loss!

Go; the voices of the dying Float on every pa.s.sing breeze; Tones of wild, imploring crying Come from lands beyond the seas!

Go where pain and sorrow languish, Go where Sin works strife and woe, Cleanse Earth's stain, and heal her anguish, Jesus calls you--brethren, go!

OUR NATION'S BIRTHDAY.

JULY 1ST, 1867.

Ring out your glad peals of rejoicing!

Wake Music's enlivening strain!

Let the sound float abroad o'er your waters, And echo through valley and plain; From the sh.o.r.es of the far-distant Fundy, To the lakes of the limitless West, Let the sound of a People's exulting Go forth in its joyous unrest!

For a great Christian Nation, this morning, From fragments disjointed made one, With the laws and the speech of old England, Looks up to the new-risen sun; And, scarce conscious as yet of her mission-- Of the wealth of her young, earnest life-- Starts out in the march of the nations, To a future with perils how rife!

Yet who shall not hope for that future-- G.o.d's wide-open Book in her hand, With her st.u.r.dy and truth-loving yeomen, Her broad-spreading acres of land?-- And who does not welcome the rising Of a new star of promise this morn, Whose beams shall illumine the darkness Of millions that yet are unborn?

Then hail we, in songs of rejoicing, Our father-land over the sea, Britannia, pride of the ocean, The home of the gallant and free!-- Hail, Queen of dominions that girdle The world like an emerald zone, VICTORIA, Head of three Empires, Meek Sovereign of Earth's proudest throne!

And hail to our new-born Dominion!

Hail, Canada, happy and blest!

May thy flag ever wave o'er the freest, Most glorious clime of the West; Be freedom thy watchword, and Onward, Thy motto, still cherished and true, And ever abroad on the breezes Float thy time-honored "RED, WHITE AND BLUE."

OUR FIELD IS THE WORLD.

Our field is the world!--let us forth to the sowing, O'er valley and mountain, o'er desert and plain, Beside the still waters through cool meadows flowing, O'er regions unblest by the dew and the rain;-- Let us scatter the seed, though in sorrow and weeping, Though fields should be verdureless, wintry, and bare, The Lord of the harvest hath still in His keeping Each seed as it falls, and will guard it with care.

Our field is the world!--let us forth to the reaping; The long day is waning, the eve draweth nigh; Faint omens of storm up the heavens are creeping, And the sigh of the tempest is heard in the sky;-- The work-hour is brief, but the rest is forever, Then stay not for weariness, languor, or pain, But forth to the harvest with earnest endeavor, And gather with gladness the sheaves that remain.

Our field is the world!--let us forth to the gleaning, The stores may be small that our labors reward, Yet One from the height of His glory is leaning, Attent to behold what we do for the Lord;-- Where, haply, some reaper has pa.s.sed on with singing, O'erladen with sheaves for the garner above, May yet be some handfuls that wait for our bringing, To crown with completeness the stores of His love.

Our field is the world!--whether sowing or reaping, Or gleaning the handfuls that others have pa.s.sed, Or waiting the growth of the seed that, with weeping, On rocky and desolate plains we have cast, Yet each for his toiling, and each for his mourning, Shall sometime rejoice when the harvest is done, And know, in the flush of Eternity's morning, That the toil, the reward, and the glory are one.

SAULT STE. MARIE

Laughing and singing With rhythmical flow, Leaping and springing, O light-hearted Sault!-- Tossing up snowy hands In thy glad play, Shaking out dewy locks Bright with the spray,-- Joyously ever Thy bright waters go, Yet wearying never, O beautiful Sault!

Kingly Superior Leaps to thy arms, And all his broad waters Are bright with thy charms; They sparkle, and glitter, And flash in their play, Chasing ripple and rainbow Away and away!

Weary, I ween, Of his solemn repose, Gaily the mighty Flood Flashes and glows; And, buoyantly, brightly, Fleet-footed or slow, Doth dance with thee lightly, Unwearying Sault!

If I were a fairy I'd dance with thee too, Daily and nightly, Unfalt'ring and true;-- In sunlight and starlight, In darkness and day, As free as the breezes, As glad in our play!

We'd sing in the darkness, We'd laugh in the light, We'd whirl in the eddies At noonday and night,-- We'd toss up the waters In sunshine, to see How they'd fling us back di'monds And gold in their glee;-- Such amethysts, topazes, Rubies and pearls, As we'd strew o'er the tide In our innocent whirls, And never be lonely, Or weariness know-- Ourselves, and us only-- O light-hearted Sault!

Yet the dance is thine own, And the song and the glee, Thou dwellest alone, Untrammelled and free Our ships may not glide O'er thy bosom,--our feet May not trace out one path, Or explore one retreat!

We may hollow our channels To left or to right, And glide on our way With thy gambols in sight, Yet this, and this only, Of thee we may know, Thou lone, but not lonely, Free, fetterless Sault!

Farewell, ye bright waters,-- We part, and for aye!-- My pathway leads on O'er the billows away;-- These feet will grow weary In life's busy mart, These eyes be oft tear-dim, And heavy this heart; But thou wilt sing on In thy joyous unrest, Unchanging, unwearying, Buoyant and blest While the slow-footed centuries Glide on their way, And nations grow h.o.a.ry, And sink in decay,-- Thou, tireless and tameless, Unchecked in thy flow, Shalt sing on as ever, O beautiful Sault!